Once More We'll Shine Together
by Invisionary
Summary: It's the night before the apocalypse and Buffy finds herself reunited with her closest friends.


Title: Once More We'll Shine Together  
Characters/Pairing: Buffy/Willow/Xander  
Setting: Future, post-"Chosen"  
Warnings: References to sex, but nothing is explicitly described.  
Word count: 5,883  
Summary: It's the night before the apocalypse and Buffy finds herself reunited with her closest friends.  
Disclaimer: All characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Mutant Enemy productions, which I am not in any way affiliated with.  
Author's Note: Big, big thanks to Bellatemple and nemo gravis for beta work on this. I tremendously appreciate it, guys.

* * *

**Once More We'll Shine Together**

She stares out the window, looking down the hill at a landscape lit by the pale glow of the full moon. The house sits on a high cliff, and there's a beautiful view of the ocean hundreds of feet below out the eastern window, but Buffy pays no attention to it. Instead, she looks south, in the direction of the village she knows is just a few miles away. She can't make it out now, even with her eyesight, and eventually gives up trying. She turns when she hears footsteps behind her.

Willow and Xander step into the living room, treading carefully since the house is lit only by the moonlight shining in through the windows. They can't afford to turn on any lights since they don't know who - or rather, _what_ - might be watching.

"Place is empty," Xander says, confirming what Buffy concluded during her quick run-through of the house after breaking in. "This is probably some rich family's summer home." He shrugs. "There's no sign that anyone's been here in a while."

"It is clean, though, so there's probably someone who comes around every once in a while," Willow adds. She sounds a little tentative. Unsure. Buffy knows it has nothing to do with what she's talking about.

"You think there's anyone still down there?" Buffy asks, nodding toward the southern window. This is good; keep to the subject at hand. She can deal with them if it's just business.

Xander shakes his head. "Not after two days. Shirek demons are _vicious_."

Willow shifts where she's standing, a little uncomfortably. "Yeah, I don't..." She stops herself abruptly, whatever she was about to say dying on her lips. "No, there won't be any people down there."

There went the 'rescue' part of search-and-rescue. Well, it made things simpler, at least - not that that was any comfort, really. All those people whose only crime was having the misfortune to build their homes on top of one of the world's biggest wellsprings of dark magic... Buffy puts that thought out of her mind. Dwelling on it won't change anything.

She still remembers the call from Giles she got yesterday. Apparently there'd been an apocalypse going on for a couple of days and no one had bothered to tell her. Giles had been very apologetic, telling her that the need was dire and he'd only called her as a last resort - which still rankles, even though she knew he hadn't meant it as an insult.

Anyway, he'd told her that trouble had broken out in several different places around the world, and the center of it all seemed to be a warlock casting a very powerful spell in a small village on the coast of Spain. One of the other Watchers had emailed her a briefing on the situation, and Giles had explained that all the other Slayers and Council personnel were either busy elsewhere or couldn't be reached. Which meant that she would be on her own against this warlock and the group of demons he had with him.

Or so she'd thought. She'd been shocked to find Willow and Xander waiting for her at the roadblock the Council had established a few miles up the road. But she'd recovered quickly enough, and after an awkward exchange of greetings, they'd all piled into her car and driven on, Xander behind the wheel since he'd done a little scouting past the roadblock earlier. He'd stopped when they got to this house, saying it was probably as close to the village as they could risk getting without running into anything, and Buffy had decided it was probably worth checking out briefly.

"I'm going down there," she says, starting for the door. "You two..."

"No." Xander's voice is cold, hard, and Buffy turns in surprise when he speaks. She can just barely make out his face in the dim, pale light, but she can't miss the intensity in his gaze. "You should wait until tomorrow." His tone softens as he continues, but only a little.

She stares at him, confused. "Why?"

"Shirek demons are weaker when the sun's out," Willow says. "A lot weaker."

"Oh." Buffy briefly wonders how _that_ very important piece of information got left out of the Council's briefing she'd received. "Still, warlock down there, remember? Big apocalyptic spell? Portals opening all over the world and demons pouring out?"

"Which I _told_ you he's nowhere close to finishing," Willow says pointedly. "He hasn't even started the power draw yet, so tomorrow evening is the earliest he could be done."

"This is a good place to stay the night," Xander says. "We can head down to the village in the morning, after sunrise."

Buffy lets the _we_ pass without comment - for now. She steps back into the living room, crossing over to stand by the fireplace. "So I guess it's a slumber party. Everybody bring their sleeping bags?" She means it to be an offhanded quip, but it comes out sarcastic and bitter. She sees Xander tense up, Willow stares at her almost disbelievingly, and Buffy winces inwardly at the sound of her own words.

"We should just get some sleep," Willow says, her irritation obvious from her expression. "I've set up some wards, so I'll know if anything comes within a mile or so of here. But I don't think we have to worry anyway, since the demons are under tight control and they won't get too far away from the one who summoned them." She heads for the stairs without another word, and after a moment Xander follows after.

"Wait." Buffy softens her voice, and Willow and Xander stop, turning to look at her curiously. She hesitates briefly - is this something she can even do? She's honestly not sure. But she finally decides that she owes it to them - and to herself - to at least make an effort. "We haven't seen each other in a while. We should talk."

For a few seconds it looks like they're going to refuse. Then Willow turns and looks at Xander, the unspoken question obvious, and he nods slowly. Buffy relaxes a little, relieved, as they step back into the center of the room.

There's a candle on the long table in front of the sofa, and Buffy takes a book of matches from a shelf next to the fireplace and lights it. Xander closes the curtains in front of the southern window, but leaves the eastern ones open, and the moonlight that streams in helps to illuminate the room along with the candle.

Now that she knows she's going to be staying here longer than a few minutes, Buffy takes a moment to look around the room she's in. Something about this house has been nagging at the back of her mind, and she wants to figure out what it is.

The place is definitely well-appointed. She's been in enough rich people's homes over the last year to be able to tell the difference between genuinely high-quality - and expensive - furnishings and cheap knock-offs, and the furniture here definitely falls into the first category. But as she looks around the living room, she suddenly notices something else, too.

There's a very personal touch to the decor. That recliner near one wall is expensive Italian leather, but instead of a rare painting hanging above it like she might have expected, there's a framed piece of embroidery, the bright colors of the simple design muted in the dim light, but still recognizable. Instead of some artsy sculpture sitting on the end table next to the couch, there's a simple piece of pottery, obviously hand-made. And as she looks over by the fireplace again, she can see pencil marks on the wall, several different lines drawn on it, progressing steadily upward, each with a name and date in Spanish next to them.

And that's when it hits her. This place feels like a _home_. It's a feeling her apartment in Rome certainly didn't have. And her house in Sunnydale hadn't felt that way for at least the last couple of years, either.

She's not quite sure what to think about that.

She steps toward the window and looks outside. The moon is as bright as she's ever seen it, and for the first time since she got here, she looks at the view out over the ocean. The white light reflects off the water and she can faintly hear the sound of the surf below. It's... soothing, in a way.

For a moment, she can almost forget about the demons a few miles away. Almost. Giles couldn't tell her how many to expect - _From what little information we've been able to obtain, we estimate there are at least a few dozen, probably more_ - but when she thinks about the fight coming up, she can't help but feel a dark sense of foreboding. She has to do one thing - take out this warlock before he can finish his spell - and she _will_ do it, but after that...

She's not sure why she can't shake this feeling of dread. Yes, this warlock is responsible for all kinds of flare-ups of trouble all around the world at the same time. And yes, he has a large group of very dangerous demons with him. But is he really _that much_ worse than anything she's faced before?

Maybe it's her. According to Giles, she's lived longer than any other Slayer in history, and she just doesn't feel like she can go on beating the odds anymore.

Hasn't felt that way in a long time, in fact.

Well, if things are going to end like this, she finds she's really not surprised. The past year or so in Rome had been a nice enough vacation, but she supposes that on some level she'd always known she'd get pulled back into the fight sooner or later. She's a Slayer, and Slayers always die the same way. That isn't going to change just because there are a lot more of them out there now.

With a soft sigh, she closes her eyes briefly and shakes her head. She has one more night, and she doesn't want to spend it preoccupied with things she has no control over.

Buffy turns away from the window and steps back into the middle of the living room. She finds Willow already sitting at one end of the couch and Xander in an armchair by the opposite end. She grabs another chair, pulls it up next to the table in front of the couch and sits down across from them. There's only a few feet of space between them, but it feels like they're a world away.

She looks them over for a moment. Xander has on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt that's so worn it almost looks older than he is. She knows for a fact that he bought that shirt right after they left Sunnydale, so there are probably a lot of interesting stories behind all the tears and frays in it that she doubts she'll ever get to hear now. She makes herself look at his face, even though she still feels incredibly guilty when she sees the eye patch. He's scowling a little, and there's no sign of that ready smile she remembers from so long ago.

She turns to Willow. She's wearing a dark green blouse with a pair of tan slacks. It's... sensible, but the fact that her outfit doesn't have any of the cutesyness of the clothes she used to wear is just one more reminder of how she's changed. Her hair is a little longer than the last time Buffy saw her, and she briefly wonders if she's letting it grow. She briefly considers asking her about it, but the look on Willow's face tells her that she's probably not in the mood for small talk.

The silence stretches on for several seconds, the three of them staring at each other a little uncomfortably, before Buffy speaks. "So what are you doing here?" She realizes - too late - that she sounds faintly accusatory. Why is this so hard?

Willow and Xander bristle at her question. They both start talking at once, then quickly fall silent, glancing at each other briefly before turning back to Buffy.

"I'd just finished closing a dimensional breach in India when I felt the dark energy close by here being accessed." Willow's voice is tight, her words measured, and Buffy can tell she's trying to keep her anger in check. "It didn't take me very long to figure out what spell was being prepared, so I got over here as fast as I could."

She leans forward slightly, the light from the candle giving her face an orange cast as she continues. "I tried to get hold of someone at the Devon coven, but it turns out they're all busy handling their own emergencies. I did finally manage to get Giles on the phone and I told him what was going on."

Xander speaks next, and he doesn't bother trying to hide his irritation. "I was down in Kenya with Martin," he says, referring to the junior Watcher they'd left back at the roadblock to relieve the Watcher who'd already been there, "and a Slayer named Makena. We followed a lead that took us to this guy's house just as bunch of Shriek demons showed up trying to kill him. We fought them off, but Makena got pretty torn up in the process. She'll be fine, but she's gonna be out of it for a few days."

Xander shrugs. "Long story short, this guy was some kind of mystic who used to work for this warlock, and after his former boss tried to kill him, he was only too happy to point us here. I called Giles again after we met up with Willow, and he told us to wait since a Slayer was on her way." He stares at her for a second, his expression unreadable. "He didn't tell us it'd be you, though."

Buffy sighs. "He probably wasn't sure it would be."

"Didn't know if even an apocalypse could get you to come off vacation?"

Xander actually looks surprised at what he just said, and maybe a little guilty, too. He opens his mouth as if he's going to say something else, but then closes it again, remaining silent and just watching her. He still looks angry, but there's a hint of something else in his eye now, too... Sadness, maybe? Willow's staring at her too, and just like that, Buffy's anger disappears, leaving her suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

She remembers the way Giles sounded on the phone. Hesitant. Unsure. She'd assumed it was because of what he was asking her to do, but now she's not so sure anymore. Was it maybe because he hadn't been sure how she'd answer his request for help?

"Vacation." She knows she sounds defensive, but she can't help it. "And what's wrong with a little vacation, huh? Do you have _any_ idea..." She stops herself abruptly. _This was a bad idea._

"What?" Xander demands. "Any idea about what?"

"This was a bad idea." She says it out loud this time, and Willow and Xander both flinch at her words. She instantly feels sorry, but for some reason she can't make herself voice the awkward apology on her lips. Instead, she sighs and closes her eyes, leaning back in her chair, fatigue that has nothing to do with physical exertion suddenly washing over her.

"Buffy?" Willow's voice is soft, but there's an edge in it nonetheless, and she opens her eyes again and faces her. "What do you mean?" She can still see the tension in her and Xander, but they do actually seem interested in her what she has to say.

She supposes she owes them an honest answer - especially now, of all times.

"You don't..." She stops briefly, not wanting to sound like she's accusing or criticizing, but quickly realizes there's no other way she can say this. "You don't know how much pressure I was under that last year in Sunnydale."

"You think it was fun for us?" Xander's already defensive. "And you definitely weren't making it any easier."

"Oh, so everything's my fault now?" Buffy knows she shouldn't get angry, but she can't help it. She was doing everything she could back then - can't they _see_ it?

"We're not saying that," Willow says. "We're _not_," she repeats, glancing meaningfully at Xander. "But Buffy, I remember how much trouble I was having with magic back then. And you kept pushing me. It was like you didn't even care..."

"I couldn't afford to care!" Buffy says, interrupting her. "I was in the fight of my life and I was trying to keep a bunch of almost defenseless girls alive. I needed all the help I could get."

"So that's why you tried to keep me out of it?" Xander demands. He stands up abruptly and starts pacing back and forth, the flickering light of the candle making his shadow flit about on the wall behind him. "That's why my biggest job toward the end there was to fix the windows? You sure didn't act like someone who was looking for help. I wanted to be there for you, but you didn't even seem interested in having me around. Neither of you did."

Willow looks up at him, clearly surprised by this turn of the conversation. It only takes a couple of seconds for her to frown at him. Torn between confusion and hurt, hurt quickly wins out.

"Oh, like you were there for me when Amy was tormenting me?"

Willow's words stop Xander in his tracks. For an instant, it seems like he's on the verge of an angry retort, but it never comes. He walks back over to his chair and sits down again, leaning forward and running one hand through his hair.

"Well maybe if you'd asked..." he says, but his attempt at defending himself is half-hearted at best. Buffy can hear the guilt in his voice.

"You didn't know what I was going through," Willow replies, shaking her head.

"And _you_ didn't know what _I_ was going through," Buffy says forcefully, cutting Willow off before she can say anything further. "Neither of you did," she continues, looking back and forth between them. "There were all these girls, and more kept showing up, and I was responsible for all of them. But I couldn't keep them safe. I couldn't keep them _alive_. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, it wasn't enough."

As she speaks, she feels the all too familiar sense of guilt. She knows, in her head, that quite a few of those girls made it out of Sunnydale alive, and without her, probably none of them would have. But that doesn't change the fact that there were way too many she couldn't save. Is it so wrong that she just wanted to forget all that for a while?

The thing is, she's never really been able to. Nothing - not an exotic new place to live, not all of Rome's nightlife, not even her fling with the Immortal - nothing has ever made her forget those girls who didn't make it out of Sunnydale.

"Buffy," Willow says, "we know you were under a lot of stress..."

"No." Buffy cuts her off, a little more forcefully than she intends, and she falls silent for a moment. She takes a deep breath and speaks more softly, turning to address both of them. "You don't. You were there, and you were trying to help, but they weren't your responsibility. You could have walked away. I never had that choice."

"You're right," Xander says, quieter now, though she can tell he's no less angry. "I don't know what that must have been like for you. But Buffy... you didn't have to go through it alone." He glances over at Willow, looking a little uncertain - probably wondering if she's going to bring up the incident with Amy again.

But she doesn't. Willow seems to accept what he's saying. "We wanted to be there for you," she says, and Buffy can hear sadness in her voice now alongside the resentment, "but you shut us out."

"You didn't understand," she insists. "How could I possibly have talked to you about it?"

"Oh, but Spike, you _could_ talk to him about it?" Xander says bitterly, and even now he still looks betrayed as he remembers their last days in Sunnydale.

"No," Buffy says quietly. "He didn't understand either. There was no one who understood."

That throws him, and Willow too for that matter. "Then... why?" Xander says.

He doesn't elaborate, but he doesn't need to. Buffy can hear the questions as clearly as if they were spoken aloud. _Why did you get so close to Spike after what he did to you? Why were you so preoccupied with him? Why did you let him in and keep us out?_

The truth is, she doesn't know. She genuinely doesn't know. She supposes that the closest thing she has to an answer is that at the time she'd thought he could give her something. Something she needed. Something that would help her go on. But she can't even be sure about that anymore.

And there was something else, too. Did she really push them away that last year when they were fighting the First, or had they distanced themselves from her? Back then, it had felt like they were the ones who'd been inaccessible, but now she finds it's another question she doesn't have an answer to.

She supposes that her uncertainty must show on her face, because their anger seems to drain away. Xander slumps a little in his chair, looking down at his lap, and Willow shifts uncomfortably on the couch. Neither of them says anything.

The silence between them lengthens, interrupted only occasionally by the faint sound of the ocean through the open window. The pale shadows cast by the moonlight slowly creep across the room, and she feels like she should say something. But she has no idea what.

She looks at Willow and Xander in turn. They're not sitting together, but somehow it doesn't feel like there are miles separating them the way it does between them and her. She wonders how much time they've spent together over the past year. She heard from Dawn that Xander had gone to visit her after Kennedy left, but nothing else beyond that.

She wonders if it's easier for them. After all, throughout their conversation tonight, they hadn't seemed to have nearly as many problems with each other as they both did with her. She knows that their relationship was also strained that last year, but they seemed to fall pretty quickly back into old patterns, too. She remembers the way Willow was there for Xander after what happened with Caleb, and then again after Anya's death in the days just after they left Sunnydale. But did they drift apart after that, too?

And god, what does it say that she doesn't know the answer to that question? Willow and Xander have been her best friends for so long, and suddenly they might as well be strangers.

No. Not strangers. No matter what happens between them, strangers are one thing they'll never be. She can take some small comfort in that, at least.

But it feels like it now. And that's... She can't let it end this way. She _won't_ let it end this way.

She stands up suddenly, pushing her chair aside and taking a few steps back into the middle of the room. "Come here," she says, sitting down cross-legged on the floor. Xander and Willow look at her curiously, and she beckons to them, gesturing to a couple of places on the rug next to her.

Willow rises first and walks over to join her. She hesitates briefly when Xander doesn't follow, turning to look over her shoulder at him.

"Xander." Willow's voice is soft, barely above a whisper. Xander looks over at them and, seeing them both watching him, finally stands and steps toward them. He and Willow sit down facing her, the three of them forming a rough circle, and Buffy folds her hands in front of her, looking at each of them in turn.

They sit together in silence for a moment. A sudden breeze blows in through the window, making the candle flicker wildly before going out, leaving the room lit only by the moonlight. Willow and Xander look almost ethereal in the soft white glow.

"What happened to us?" Buffy says at length, finally breaking the stillness that's settled over the room.

For a moment she can hardly believe she said it. This just isn't... They don't talk about things like this. But she has to know. She has to know if either of them has an answer.

"I don't know." Willow's voice is soft, barely above a whisper, and her earlier uncertainty is back. "Buffy, I... we..." She turns to look at Xander, and at his answering nod, she continues, sounding a little more sure of herself. "We should have been better friends, those last couple of years."

"Yeah," Xander says. There's a look of weariness on his face now that Buffy can relate to all too well. "Whatever our problems were, we weren't exactly at our best."

She wants to tell them not to worry, wants to tell them not to beat themselves up over what she was going through. She wants to tell them how much they mean to her. All those years, everything she went through back in Sunnydale... She _knows_ she wouldn't have made it without them.

But looking at them now, sitting together like this, she just can't find the words.

She remembers another time they did this. Back in her old house, after the Master but before Angelus, in her room, they sat on the floor, clustered together like this, basking in the late afternoon sun. They joked and gossiped, told each other their secrets and talked about their dreams, all full of smiles and laughter. By then she'd already been hurt, already given so much to the fight against vampires and demons, but when she was with Willow and Xander, she always thought - always _believed_ - that things would turn out all right.

It seems like an age ago now.

"I don't want you going with me tomorrow," she whispers.

"What?" Xander sounds at once confused and hurt, and he and Willow stare at her in shocked disbelief.

"It's not because I don't want you there," she says quickly, cutting them off before either of them can say anything else. "Believe me."

"Then what...?" Xander shakes his head. "Buffy, we've had this discussion before. We've talked about this a lot."

"That's right," Willow says. "Come on, this is hardly the first time we've faced down major badness."

Xander fixes her with a serious look. "If this is about you not wanting us to get hurt..."

"Yes, that's exactly what it's about!" Buffy shouts, her voice echoing off the walls of the room. She wants to jump up and pace around, but she forces herself to stay sitting next to them. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself a little. She's not angry, but she wants - she _needs_ - them to understand this.

"I don't want you getting hurt," she says. "I'm a Slayer. And if I get killed fighting tomorrow..." She trails off, shaking her head. It's bad enough that she can't rid herself of this ominous feeling about the fight ahead. She doesn't want to make it any more real by talking about it.

"But it doesn't have to happen to you," she continues emphatically. "You've given me _so much_. And if I can give you this... this one last thing, please let me do it."

And she knows what to say now, what she _needs_ to say, as much for her own sake as for Xander's or Willow's. But she can't make herself speak the words that would set things right between them. Her friends watch her, their eyes full of emotion, so much hanging between the three of them as they struggle with what she just said.

And then, in an instant, something changes. She's not sure if it's where they are, if it's her apprehension about tomorrow, if it's the sense of near desperation she feels about everything that's come between them that she knows they share, but something between them shifts.

She's not quite sure what she's thinking at first, but as she brushes her lips against Willow's, and then Xander's, it just feels... right. Not perfect, not like a fairy tale, but there's an intensity of feeling here, and it's different from what she's had with anyone else. It's new, but at the same time it feels warm, familiar, and comfortable.

As she pulls back, she can read disbelief and then nervousness in their expressions. Xander sits stock-still, and Willow shifts around slightly, trying to speak, but no sound comes out. Buffy lets go of their hands and reaches up to gently touch their faces, meeting their eyes and giving them a small smile.

And after one brief, heart-stopping moment, they relax. Xander and Willow glance at each other, and she sees something pass between them before they turn back to her. And when they smile back at her, it warms her heart like nothing she's seen in years.

Buffy scoots forward a little on the floor, fixing them with a serious gaze.

"I do love you, you know," she murmurs.

Kisses them again, and if they can't find the truth of the love between all of them with words, they'll find it like this, in their eyes and in their hearts, in the things unspoken, and in the total breaking down of barriers between them.

* * *

Buffy wakes just before dawn the next morning. She slips out of bed and picks up her clothes from the bedroom floor, dressing quietly and stepping to the foot of the bed. Willow's curled up against Xander, and she takes a moment to just watch them, her eyes tracing over their faces as they sleep. They look... peaceful, and she can't help but smile as she sees their expressions. 

She turns and leaves the room, heading downstairs and back to the living room. She steps over to the eastern window and looks out across the water as the sky lightens. The few clouds on the horizon have taken on a pinkish hue, and she decides she can afford a few minutes before she leaves.

She thinks back to what happened last night with Xander, and Willow - and yeah, she'd thought _that_ might be weird, but it was _Willow_, and somehow, that had made it okay - and finds, to her surprise, that she doesn't feel at all awkward or uncomfortable about it. She stays in front of the window for several long moments, and the more she thinks about it, the gladder she is it happened that way.

She's learned time and again not to make sex out to be more than it is, not to confuse it with love. She's learned that the hard way. But last night... Willow and Xander are her closest friends, and she's always loved them. And that had gotten lost for a while, but she thinks that now they see it again. And that means more to her than anything else she could have asked for.

She sighs. It's time to go. A warlock and a bunch of demons are waiting for her, and it's just a few more minutes until sunrise, so there's no point in waiting any longer.

Time to go save the world again. And if she doesn't come back this time... Well, there are worse ways this could have happened.

Buffy turns for the front door, and nearly gasps in shock when she sees Willow and Xander waiting for her. Willow's standing at the foot of the stairs and Xander's a little ways away by the front door. She'd been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't even heard them come down the stairs.

"And just where do you think you're going, missy?" Willow's voice is light and she's smiling a little, but Buffy can tell it's a serious question.

Buffy walks over to Willow, gathering her resolve as she crosses the room. "I'm going down to the village," she says. "We talked about this last night."

"Actually, as I recall, we never did finish that particular conversation," Willow says.

"You guys..." Buffy shakes her head. "I appreciate this, more than I can tell you. But I can't let you come with me."

"Why not?" Xander asks, stepping over to stand next to them. "Because it's hopeless? Because anyone who goes down there isn't coming back?"

"Well let me tell you something," he continues, a familiar grin making its way onto his face. "It's not gonna happen like that. We're gonna _win_."

"That's right," Willow declares. "So there'll be no talk about anyone not making it back. We're all going down there and we're all coming back." She folds her arms in front of her and nods.

Buffy looks at them standing there watching her, taking in the smiles on their faces and the light in their eyes. She can hardly believe what she's hearing, but they're so open, so genuine, that she knows they're not just speaking for her benefit. They honestly believe what they're saying, and god, she can't help but get swept along with it.

And all traces of the dark foreboding she felt last night suddenly vanish like the last bits of shadow in a room suddenly filled with light. For the first time in what feels like forever... she _hopes_.

She steps forward and pulls them into a tight hug, the two of them returning her embrace eagerly. Tears run down her face, but she pays no attention to them. She just holds Xander and Willow close, finding a strength and resolve she thought long-lost in their presence. She can hardly believe it, but it's there, and she doesn't ever want to lose it again.

Finally, she lets go of them and steps back, wiping the tears from her eyes. After taking a moment to regain her composure, she nods once.

"Okay," she says. "Let's go kick this warlock's ass."

They take up their weapons and leave the house together. As they step outside, they turn and look to the east as the first rays of dawn make their way across the ocean below. Xander rests a hand on her shoulder, and Willow links arms with her as they stand together for a few minutes, watching the sunrise.

And then, with a lightness in her step born of the comfort and strength she takes from having her best friends by her side again, Buffy turns back and starts down the hill.

And as Willow and Xander fall in step beside her, she feels like she can face anything.

END


End file.
